Claire stares at Mena Suvari for a long, long time. Finally, she moves in for a kiss, and Mena Suvari dodges out of the way and is all, "What the fuck, Claire?" Claire tries to be super-cool and groovy about it and just asks, "What?" but Mena Suvari is having none of it, yelling over Now This Is What I Call Product-Placement 11, "What are you doing?" Claire defends her lecherous actions, telling Mena Suvari, "You just look so fucking beautiful tonight," to which Mena Suvari snipes, "High much?" Okay, this behavior in no way reflects at all one's behavior when high. First of all, there are not nearly enough delicious cheddar cheese pretzel Combos in the vicinity for a convincing portrayal. Claire asks why Mena Suvari is being such a bitch, and Mena Suvari reminds her, "The world's not your own private fucking chemistry set, Claire." But if it were, she'd invent your ass a chill pill.
The Black Forest Inn, Idaho. Maya sits on the floor watching television while Nate gets off the phone in disgust and announces, "There's a barbecue at Peg and Ed's in an hour. I should've told them I was coming tomorrow morning." A barbecue does sound somewhat overly festive, I have to admit. The phone rings again, and Brenda starts reaching for it, but Nate practically body checks her onto the floor in attempt to get to it before her. She promises, "I was gonna pass it to you," but he says that he'll just let the caller leave a message. Nate calls the front desk and finds that there is, indeed, a message, but that it's for Brenda. "Byron," she intones all gravely, as if that meant anything before, like, yesterday.
According to TV, gay marriage is exactly like straight marriage, except with scads more pretty Hollywood extras sitting in the adorably rough-hewn, outdoor wicker pews. An omni-raced non-denominational pastor stands in front of a tasteful set of sheer curtains as two impeccable dressers face each other and recite The Vows That Dare Not Speak Their Civil Disobedience. David tears up watching one of the men tear up during his recitation of the vows, as Keith sits next to him in the gay Los Angeles sunshine, seemingly sound asleep. Keith sticks it to the man through very peaceful protest.
Claire returns to the coach house looking like last night's bender did her no good at all. She looks like she went crazy Broadway-style and joined the Junior Campers. Claire Fisher: the few, the proud, the apple-cheeky. She carries a large brown bag filled with sadness and artistic compromise, and she dumps it posthaste and immediately picks up some pot-containing drug paraphernalia from the table in front of her. She takes a deep hit off of the Mary Jane, and has barely exhaled when a voice from next to her bed bids her a soft "Hey." She gasps in I-See-Russell-People horror as she notes said Russell lying next to her bed with his shirt unbuttoned and her blanket halfway over him. Man, and my biggest fear was always finding a roach in my bed. I had no idea how much worse it could get. He explains in a zombie-like, drugged-out, second-act-of-Hair kind of way, "Anita and I crashed here. She left early this morning." Claire seems unimpressed even with Russell's oddly patchy, Rorschach Drawing chest hair (I see a character whose presence has outlasted his relevance. What do YOU guys see?), turning back to her Sad Bag until Russell decides to kick it Lewis Carroll-style and announces, "I fell into a K-hole last night." Of course you did. "And I'm climbing out. Right now." Claire sits down at the table and opens an economy-size tureen of Tropical Blend V-8 Splash. It's 10% fruit juice, 90% product placement! I know a show without commercials has to make its advertising buck from somewhere, but this episode is seriously starting to turn into an episode of Supermarket Sweep. Anyway, Claire knows what Russell is talking about, asking him, "Who had K last night?" He doesn't know. "How was it, fun?" He doesn't know. It looks like a blast. He continues on, "I might have been raped, and I'll only recover the memory under intense hypnosis ten years from now." Claire laughs and mutters, "That's cool." Meanwhile, drugs issue a press release that's all, "Don't blame us. They were never that interesting to begin with."